Our Empty Streets

The first sailed on water of the crystal kind,
Translucent agendas blanketed by the happiness of the other,
How we tried to be what each wanted, emotions engraved on heart strings,
I’d have loved you until rapture if that had been the intent of life,
When mixed youth bought longing to be the others defining rhyme,
For a while we synced creation with ruptured tint, blush and balance,
Yet little came beyond that point, I married memory over matter
Until all our matter-of-facts lied and cried between distant matter,
The stupor conceived reality betwixt blemished hues, colours cascade,
Life plagued, and we lost something that magic propelled to the stars,
A torn rift drifts where we could never be again. Now our friendship slides
Down knife edged tears, and years become the younger of those long walks
Where we tread the streets we once loved in, never seeing the ghosts we left behind,
Our unfamiliar victims of adolescence and inadequate dreaming,
Streaming conscious disfigurement to the sovereign of souls.


Poem © Phen Weston 2014

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